Caring
by AnnabethLuna
Summary: Tara and Spike have a conversation directly after Older and Far Away. References the twisted relationship dynamics of Season 6 Buffy/Spike and Tara/Willow.
**Can I just say how very very much I adored Tara in this episosde? I mean, I adore her all the time, but Season 6 Tara is a special kind of force for good. I loved the way that she accepted Buffy's relationship with Spike, but also tried to protect Buffy when it seemed like things were going too far. I imagine her having some kind of a conversation with Spike afterwards, and I imagined it going something like this. The conversation is slightly skewed, given that it is seen through Spike's eyes, but I tried to keep the characters as consistent as possible.**

 **...**

Rushing into the cool night air – well, Spike could spend forever breathing in the scent of Buffy, but it had been so tainted with everyone else in the house that it took some of the pleasure out of it. And he could have handled being stuck there forever with her, or maybe with Dawn, but with everyone else? No thank you. Right now, especially knowing that Buffy wouldn't give him a second glance at the moment, all Spike wanted to do was head back to his crypt and not speak to anyone for a while. Or maybe go out patrolling; use up some of that unspent energy just itching to be burned.

He caught the witch's scent before she spoke, but her soft voice came out of the darkness not long after. "Spike?"

He sighed heavily and turned around to face her. "What?" he asked, making no effort to sound friendly. He was too tired, and too annoyed with everyone, to bother with politeness.

Tara bore it; her slight stutter didn't seem to have anything to do with him. "I-I was wondering if I could walk with you for a bit."

He didn't say yes or no. He just turned around and started walking away, leaving the choice of following up to her. If she really wanted to talk to him, she'd follow him anyway.

She did. Her footsteps kept pace with his, but she stayed a careful distance from him, giving him plenty of space. He couldn't tell if he appreciated it, or if it just annoyed him more.

"Well?" he asked finally, too impatient to let her break the silence on her own terms. "What is it this time? S'pose you're another one come to tell me to stay away from Buffy" –

"That's not why I'm here," she interrupted.

It was the tone of her voice that finally clued him in. He flashed back to earlier – the way Tara had always been right _there_ every time he'd tried something; the knowing little smirk she'd shot him; the pointed remarks about the invented muscle cramp –

"You know, don't you?"

She nodded. "Buffy told me. A few days ago." Spike turned his head just a little to see that her eyes were downcast. "She was – she was worried she came back wrong."

The flash of fury was sudden and shocking, and he stopped walking and rounded on Tara. "Of course she came back wrong!" he growled. "She shouldn't have come back at all, and if you and your bloody Scooby gang hadn't been so damn set on bringing her back" –

Tara flinched and ducked her head, but she didn't back away. "I know," she said. "We were wrong to bring her back. We probably knew it was wrong when we did it, but – but w-we just wanted her back so much that we ignored our better judgment." She looked back up at him, resolve in her eyes. "But now it's done, and what are we going to do? We can't just l-let her go back to – to where she was. You said it that first night; it's _Buffy,_ and she's here, and we have to do what we can to keep it that way. And th-that's actually why I wanted to talk to you."

"What?" he snarled, not trusting her placating tone. "You're gonna say I'm making things worse, are you? Well, let me tell you something, sweetheart" –

"I know," she said calmly. He had to respect the way she was handling this; anyone else in their gang would have blown up at him or stormed off by now. "Buffy told me that – that being with you is – well, I think she needs you right now, Spike. I think th-there's something you're giving her that the rest of us can't."

To Spike's shock, he felt a flush of warmth run through him. He'd never expected one of Buffy's friends to say something like this to him – he'd expected them to be so obsessed with "protecting" her that they didn't even notice that _she needed him_. That there _were_ things he could give her that they couldn't. He smirked. To say nothing of the physical attributes.

"But," Tara continued, "I did want to warn you, too." She seemed to sense Spike's outrage at those words – before he could even open his mouth, she hurried on. "Not to stay away from Buffy, just to be careful."

"Careful" –

"With both of you." Seeming to gain courage, Tara took a couple of steps until she was at his side, and they resumed walking. "I know you're in love with her. I – I know no one else believes you, but I know you are. But you know she can't give you what you want right now, right?"

"Right," Spike grumbled. "Because only perfect vampires with souls" –

"Not because of that," Tara cut in. "Because she has no idea what she wants or how she's feeling. Spike" – She hesitated. "I – maybe I shouldn't say this, but I don't think it's impossible for her to love you, you know. Someday."

"You don't?" Spike hated himself as soon as the words were out, hated the vulnerability he knew was in his voice.

"I don't," repeated Tara. "And I'm not going to tell you to stop doing – the things you're doing." Spike cut his eyes over to the side, and smirked to see that she was blushing. "But I don't think she's in a place right now where she can give you what _you_ want. She's just very confused, and she's hurting, and – I just wanted you to be careful with your heart and her mind."

"Right," he said. "Careful. Sure."

"Spike," she said seriously. "Please." She had the most open face of the whole group, he'd always thought: honest eyes; soft, slightly downturned mouth. "I told you I don't think it's impossible for her to develop feelings for you, but – but someday doesn't mean now, and her needing you isn't the same as loving you. Just please don't push her. Give her the space to figure out what she's feeling."

"Sure. Space," he mumbled. _Right._

"Thank you," Tara said. "I – I hope I'm not intruding too much on things that aren't my business. It's just – Buffy came to me for help, and I wanted" –

"No. I get it." Whether or not he agreed with her, it was nice to know that at least one of Buffy's friends was looking out for her, rather than just making more demands. Suddenly, Spike wanted to do something for Tara. To thank her. He frowned – it was a feeling that he didn't like, one of those weirdly confusing urges that had been popping up more and more lately. But maybe if it gave him the chance to kill something – "Hey," he blurted out. "I'll walk you home. Make sure you don't run into any nasties on the way."

Her intake of breath revealed that he had surprised her. "Oh, I don't want you to go out of your way. I – I can take care of myself, really," she assured him.

"I know," he reminded her. "I worked with you all summer." That rankled, too – the months he'd spent patrolling with them, protecting Dawn, keeping her safe, only to be forgotten, discarded, as soon as Buffy returned. He couldn't help throwing the reminder in, hoping it would maybe make at least Tara feel guilty.

"R-right, I r-remember." The increase in her stutter revealed that he'd hit his mark, and a surge of vindictive satisfaction welled up inside Spike. "I just – d-don't want to trouble you."

"Oh, it's no trouble. Was planning on going out patrolling anyway; don't mind taking a little detour. You're back in the dormitories, right?"

She tensed. "Yeah."

He realized too late that it was a touchy subject. "Sorry about you and Willow," he said anyway – and what was he doing, _comforting_ her? He tried to rationalize it – relationship problems, he understood. "It was the magic, right?"

"Yeah," Tara murmured. "Among other things."

"Other things?"

"She made me forget." Tara's voice was very small. "You remember the spell, that day? The forgetting one? Th-that wasn't the first time she did that to me. We had a fight, about her using magic, and she made me forget it had happened. She – she _violated_ me; I couldn't trust that she wouldn't do it again, and I might never know."

"Oh," he said. "Well, it looks like she's off the magic. Seems like it's for good, if she wouldn't even cast a spell back there."

"Yeah," Tara whispered. "She's doing really well. I'm proud of her."

"And you're still in love with her." It was not a question – it was too obvious, and Spike figured Tara would appreciate cutting through the lies and denial.

"I am," Tara admitted. "But, you know – sometimes love's not enough."

Spike didn't know if the comment was pointed or not. Considering what she'd said earlier, about Buffy needing him, he decided to assume it wasn't. "Yeah, maybe," he said, "but she's tryin'. For you. There's worse things to forgive."

"Maybe so," said Tara. "I mean, I wouldn't just – take her back, just like that. But . . ." She smiled shyly. "I was thinking about trying to be friends again. Just friends, and then we can – then we can see."

"Just friends, eh?" Spike snorted. "You're a smart one, love; you know that bit never works out."

Tara's smile turned a little sheepish. "I know," she admitted. "But it's a start, right? Taking things slowly, and then I can – can see how it turns out."

Now he knew there was a double meaning in what she was saying. He raised an eyebrow at her, and she crumbled immediately. "I'm not trying to tell you what to do, Spike," she said. "I'm sorry; I'm getting too involved in this. It's – it's up to you and Buffy. I just – I just care about both of you, and I want it to be okay."

Now it was Spike's turn to stutter. "B-both of us?" There was another surge of something unfamiliar, but this time not entirely unwelcome – something that tugged at parts of him that remained mostly dormant, reminding him that they existed.

Her eyes were soft. "You brought it up earlier, Spike; we worked together all summer. You've done good things, I haven't forgotten. I do remember last year, you know. The working together – but there's more than that. I remember that you were the one to tell me I wasn't a demon, the one that finally convinced my dad to back off." She hesitated, and then brushed her hand down his arm, so softly and quickly that he wasn't certain it hadn't been an accident. "There's good in you, Spike, I know it."

The next pause held for a long time, neither of them speaking. Spike was fighting an internal battle – both touched and offended by her last words, horrified at the thought of being good, but warmed inside at the thought that Tara thought he was. And why did he care what she thought, anyway? What was going on?

He didn't speak, but she finally did, her next words easier to take. They, at least, highlighted something he knew to be true. "A-and, and I know you really do care about Buffy, and I know she needs that."

He didn't know what to say. Thanking her seemed wrong, not when she was in the process of thanking him. Nothing was quite right, so he settled on another, "Oh." Then his throat dried up, and they walked the rest of the way in silence.

"I'm here," said Tara as they approached the next building. "Thank you for the walk, Spike. And the conversation."

"Anytime, pet," he said, realizing that he meant it. She patted his arm in goodbye and turned to walk into the building. "And, Tara."

She turned back. "Yeah?"

"Thanks," he said. "For caring."


End file.
